


Feminization

by Hadithi_After_Hours



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Consent, F/M, Feminization, Light Dom/sub, Light Humiliation, roleplaying, sub connie, sub steven, top connie, top steven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21922360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hadithi_After_Hours/pseuds/Hadithi_After_Hours
Summary: Connie feminizes Steven and he's all too eager to do so. Steven feminizes Connie and there's a bit more hesitation.Just cute porn without plot.
Relationships: Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe
Comments: 20
Kudos: 154





	1. Eager Feminization

Steven looked good in heels and dresses, though he didn’t wear them all that often. Like any fancy clothes, heels and dresses were saved for performances and fancy occasions. Steven’s regular clothes had and would always be lazy jeans and t-shirts, with flip fliops he could kick off at a moment’s notice to enjoy the sand. So he wasn’t resistant to the idea at all that Connie wanted to dress him up like a girl and tell him how pretty he was, though their first attempts had gotten a little awkward.

She had brought home a bunch of makeup and he hummed as he looked through it, holding up different palettes to his face, "I think this shade of pink is too cold for my skin, Connie."

"That’s fine," she said with a little pout. “I’ll go get a different one.”

"Want me to come with you?” he asked with a little grin. “I’m pretty good at picking out makeup.”

Which had apparently been the wrong thing to say, as she had gotten incredibly frustrated and the game had ended early, with a long discussion of how it was terribly hard to femininize someone who was already very good at it. This made sense with other things in the past, as he recalled Connie once attempting to do his eyeliner, and when he gently corrected it was crooked she had glared at him and growled, “How about  _ you _ do it then?” And he had, and he had done it perfectly, and then she was off pouting again.

The second time they had gotten a bit further as Steven eyed the makeup job in the mirror, just a bit critical, and murmured, "Yeah, I don't think the purple really goes with the pink dress? Maybe if it was softer?"

"Okay, time to shut the fuck up. I'm getting the strap-on and a gag." Connie threw up her hands in frustration, storming out of the room. "Because, apparently, I don't have the  _ pizazz _ Steven Universe needs for forced feminization!"

"Yeah, just, hold on," Steven grabbed the wipes and the eye shadow palette. "If I don't fix it I'm going to think about it the whole time."

But the word forced stuck in his head, and their next talk was much more reasonable. He kissed her forehead softly and said, “If forcing it isn’t working, why don’t we just do, I don’t know, eager feminization? I’ll dress feminine and we can enjoy it. We don’t like being mean to each other anyway, just teasing. So let’s just keep being gentle with it. Does that work for you?”

She nuzzled against his neck. “Just seems like you’re supposed to be angry and confused about it. But I guess it’s just as nice when you’re happy. I just like how pretty you are. Do you think we could do a roleplay?”

“Do you have something in mind?”

Connie slowly grinned up at him. “Steven, I  _ always _ have something in mind.”

* * *

Steven sat at a vanity, mirrors surrounding him and makeup splayed across the counter from hours of work. His shirt was little more than a band of fabric, sparkly white yet completely unstained from all his careful work. He turned his way this way and that, checking on the elaborate contour he had played around with. He thought his face could look a little gentler, but he was quite impressed by just how much feminine softness he’d managed to capture despite his masculine build.

A knock from from the bedroom door, and there was Connie in her heart-breaker dark blue suit, short hair brushed and combed into a fierce androgynous look that she captured so well. He couldn’t help but go a little breathless at the sight of her as she spoke. "I could help with that," she said as she strolled forward. "It's practice, right? Not for your performance tomorrow."

He laughed, doing his best to look shy. It was easy when she turned on her charm and presence, looming over him with a confident, sultry look. "Not exactly  _ practice _ . It's just for fun. Pretty make up, not over the top stage stuff. Is that allowed, Miss Manager?"

“Maybe. Can’t begrudge the talent for enjoying his downtime.” She tugged a conveniently placed folding chair over to the vanity and picked up some lipstick from the mess. The lid fell away, landing softly in the carpet, and she slowly twisted the bright red up. "I don’t know much about makeup. This work for pretty?"

"Think so," he murmured.

Her hand was soft and steady, making his lips tingle as she spread color across them. Her eyes were so dark, so intense, her lips slightly parted as she focused on her task, sending heated tingles down his spine from her every movement. She was going so slow, minutes ticking by as she so gently made the lipstick kiss him. When she finished, her teeth found her own lower lip, flicking up nervously to his eyes. "Sorry. I'm not practiced like you. Had to go a little slower."

"Slow is fine." He leaned closer, looking up at her under dark, long lashes, covered in heavy mascara. "As long as you get it done right."

"I tried my best. But it's hard to improve when you're already so perfect," she murmured, her eyes slowly roaming over him. She skimmed past the tiny shirt, showing off his chest and gem, down to his skirt. It was the same sparkly white, cut midthigh and giving the game away with the already hard cock. Connie giggled at the sight, covering her mouth with one hand and breaking character for an instant to palm his dick through the fabric. "So, all green?" 

"Yeah." He gasped and pressed up against her hand. "Get back to seducing me, Miss Manager."

"Seducing you, am I?" she asked, but she went back to looking more demure as her eyes drifted down to his toned calves over soft cream heels. She bent low to stroke the shiny, tall heels. Her fingers flitted over the bare skin on his feet, up shaved legs, over his knee.

"You're so beautiful, Steven." Her fingers moved slowly up his thigh as she leaned forward, sending goosebumps up his spine. "You make the prettiest girl."

"I know. Made a whole career out of it." He smiled a little, but his heart was beating, cock twitching as she reached the hem of the skirt. "Connie, what are you doing?"

"I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t.” Her thumb smoothed across the sensitive skin of his inner thigh and her eyes focused in on the bright red of his lips. “I never really noticed you before. You were always in stage make up or dressed so masculine. I never realized how badly I want you."

Steven leaned forward, head tilting gently. "I know we shouldn't, but..."

“No one has to know, right?” she gasped.

She moaned as she jumped into his lap, almost knocking him over just from the surprise. He barely stopped a giggle from bubbling out - Connie always was a sucker for forbidden love. He grabbed her waist, rocking forward as her hands came to his cheeks, guided his face to hers for a kiss. Connie was aggressive, her lips hard against his, her body and hips already grinding him down into the chair, so he'd have to call on Diamond strength if he wanted to move an inch. He groaned as she humped him, so practiced at finding the perfect angle to stroke her clit along the length of his cock.

Steven's hands trembled on her waist, unable to do anything more than let her take him. She was always too much for him, so deeply in love that he couldn't even refuse her, and she moved so incredibly fast. Connie's tongue pushed into his mouth, his nails clawing hard along his hips, and all he did was whimper at her attention. Every touch made everything between his legs throb, the gentle pain of her rough treatment making his head swim with submission.

Her mouth moved quickly across his cheek to his ear, "Good girl. My pretty girl."

He whined, but patiently squirmed beneath her with still hands. Steven rocked against her, matching her slow rhythm, and said, "Please fuck me, ma'am."

This time he did giggle as “ma’am” tore a moan from her throat, smoky and wanting, and then she was tearing the clothes from her body. He tried to help, but her hands were too fast for him to help. The jacket, the blouse, the bra were all tossed in the corner somewhere. Nimble and strong and flexible, she slipped her pants and underwear off without even crawling off his lap. Those were gone somewhere too, but he was too busy staring to care where. His hands slipped over taunt muscled skin, broad hips and taut belly and breasts that weren't too large, but hung a bit heavy on her small frame.

She grinned, arching back to stretch everything tighter. His hands slid all the way up her front, until he had her chest in his hands. He grinned back. "I didn't even get the chance to call you handsome, Miss Manager. I was enjoying that suit."

"Not my fault you're slow, Tammy Tennessee," she teased. She took away his laughter with another kiss, and her hands fiddled with his clothes. Connie shoved his skirt up, fingers brushing eagerly over the silken panties beneath, the ones that barely contained his straining cock. “So soft,” she purred against his lips, before giving it a gentle tug. He lifted his ass from the chair so she could tug the panties down without ripping them, and shivered as she held them up, already stained with precum.

“These are going to be a bitch to clean, Steven,” she scolded. “You’re such a messy girl.”

“Sorry,” he said, a husky gasp as she turned her attention to his bobbing cock. Her fingers brushed lightly over him, making him hiss with pleasure as his wetness dripped down his shaft, down onto the shoved aside skirt.

He licked his lips and realized he didn't taste wax. A glance at the vanity mirror showed the bright red lipstick smeared across his face, the blush uneven and dragged in too many directions. His eyes were still perfectly unsmudged, at least. A very pretty girl, but a disheveled one. Her hand wrapped around him and stroked him once, and the chair he sat on creaked as his fingers squeezed the wood too hard. His head rocked back as he groaned, eyes slamming shut from her familiar motions.

"D'y'need your toy?" he mumbled, words slurred with dreamy pleasure as her thumb teased his glans.

"You're my toy. Use your fingers today." Connie wasted no time on teasing, her firm grip holding him steady as she sunk down onto him. Their cries harmonized for a moment, everything hot, thick pleasure as they came together and savored the moment, clinging to each other as they balanced precariously on the chair.

Steven pressed his hand against her hip, stretching out his thumb to slowly stroke her clit. She tightened perfectly around him, and his head rolled back as she started to move. "You're so perfect," he whispered. 

"You are." Her thighs gripped tight around his, her arms locked around his neck. "My good girl. Pretty and sweet and wonderful and mine." 

She couldn't bite hard enough to hurt him, so when her teeth clamped down hard where his neck met his shoulder he just whimpered and savored the gently stinging pinch. Her hips rolled as she bounced, making him curse and gasp as her walls stroked and squeezed all the way from head to base. He glanced down at where they met and groaned at the sight of the skirt ruined with cum, his and hers, as his cock vanished into her again and again, completely beyond his control.

He stroked faster, not bothering to match her rhythm with his thumb and barely moving his hips. It was so much easier to let her have him, to let her scratch and bite and bounce like he was nothing more than her pretty life sized sex doll. She babbled and whimpered in between nips, calling him pretty and beautiful and hers, until she cried out his name. Everything was white hot heat around his cock and tight, blissful pressure as she clamped down around him. He kept his thumb moving, dragging out her orgasm as long as she could stand before she moved his hand away. 

He was already close, and it only took a minute of her holding him close and going hard and fast, her hips beating against his thighs in a jackhammer rhythm.

Steven thought he might have begged. Pleaded. Said her name. His mouth was moving to say something as he bucked up into her and came, and his words faded away into a strangled grunt. Hot, fuzzy bliss slammed into his brain as she milked him, taking every pulse until nothing was left, and his dick was so achingly sensitive he tapped two fingers rapidfire against her hips to get her to shuffle off him, which she did wtih a very odd wobbling motion.

"Oh, fuck," he mumbled dizzily, leaning back. He was laying down on... Air. Right. He giggled, watching Connie carefully balance on his hips, and realizing what all the odd wobbling had been about. He gently grabbed her waist, keeping her from rolling off him to the ground. He grinned. “So, uh, I’m happy.”

She laughed. "Very happy! Very cute. But we’re going to make a mess if you don't put us down."

"I'll clean it." He tweaked her nose. "You'd be floating too if you could."

"I am, thanks to you." She leaned forward, moaning softly as she kissed him. "You’re the best girl, Steven."

"I prefer Tammy in costume," he said dramatically, and they giggled and cuddled in the afterglow.

* * *

"So." Steven drummed his fingers on his belly. He didn’t have to bring it up, especially when they were having such a lovely night in bed, except for the fact that he was Steven, and Steven could not abide a possible problem left unsolved. "I think. Maybe. You have a thing with femininity, and we should talk about it."

"Forced feminization is one of the most common fetishes," Connie retorted. "Lots of people like the feminine look more than the masculine look, and you pull it off really well."

"But you expected me to be embarrassed about it and were frustrated and confused that I wasn't. I know you don't want me to be a really manly guy so..." He put his hand gently on hers. "Do you think, maybe, you're projecting a little?"

She frowned. "Projecting what? I'm a girl! I don't mind girly stuff! You taught me makeup! I love outfits."

"Mmm." He bit his lip. "Listen, Connie, if I was going to tell you that you had to go get groceries tomorrow in a frilly baby doll dress, how would you feel about that?"

She shook her head and crossed her arms, snatching her hand away from him. "No, that's different. People I work with go to the same grocery store!"

"So?" he asked.

"So they'd see me and they wouldn't be able to take me seriously because  _ oooooh no _ ." Connie's hands came up to her head, eyes wide. "Oh, no, Steven. Steven, I have a thing."

"Yeah. The whole reaction to the fetish stuff was making it kind of obvious." He laughed awkwardly. "You want to talk about it?"

"I mean, I don't think there's anything to talk about.” She shrugged and rambled on casually, “My mom always told me I needed to dress in certain ways to get respect if I wanted to go into male dominated fields. And you know all my makeup knowledge came from you, which always made putting it on feel kind of intimate. Plus, I was kind of denied a lot of girly experimentation stuff because I was so busy trying to be a badass gem warrior oh  _ fuck _ . Oh no."

He rubbed her back. "Yeah, it's okay. We're going to talk some stuff out and try this again."


	2. Forced Feminization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie's turn

Connie had not expected him to be pretty. The night they had scheduled sex (they didn't always schedule sex, but she found it much more comforting to have a date and time for big, new sex things), she had expected to come home and unwind a little, relax, not immediately be star struck by her gorgeous husband in a flowing pink dress and matching heels that made him look strong and pretty and sexy all at once. By the time her eyes reached his face, she realized he had gone all out there too. Highlighted cheekbones and pink lips and pink sparkly eyeshadow over dark, long lashes.

She swallowed as he approached. Her brain kept clicking into the wrong place, making her nervous about the exciting new person who was looking at her with bedroom eyes, but it was still Steven. It really wasn’t fair how he was taking advantage of how pretty he was. She tried to tug her thoughts into place and sound confident, "Isn't the makeover supposed to be for me?"

"It is." He grinned.

He had enough confidence for the both of them tonight. She got up on her tiptoes to kiss him, and he caught her chin with soft fingers ending in pink polished nails. The grin was a smirk now, gently teasing. "Don't get too excited. You're gonna mess up my lipstick."

She blinked. "I thought this was for sex."

"It is."

"But we can't kiss?"

"Once you're pretty, we can mess it up and have sex. If you can hold out." He poked her nose and she stuck out her tongue. She never was the most patient person. Her best efforts at holding out usually involved begging about a half hour in.

She nodded to herself. "Alright, but yellow, if you were going to get started. I'm gross and sweaty and I want to clean off and change. Should I put on something femme or masc?"

"Whatever." He scratched her head lovingly. "Go ahead. We'll start up again when you get to the bedroom."

She smiled. Clear. Simple. Easy. She kissed the palm of his hand where there wasn't any makeup and rushed off to get herself as clean as Steven, who smelled of fruity shampoos and flowery soaps and just a touch of perfume. She scrubbed herself with the pretty soaps Steven had picked out, and washed her hair with the shampoo he had bought and... She stopped in the shower for a second, feeling just a little bit of embarrassment creep in. When had everything in the bathroom become things Steven had gotten? How long had she been walking around smelling exactly the way he wanted her too? She washed the rosemary and lavender conditioner from her hair, but the smell of it lingered in the hot steam, pleasantly tingly from the thought that so much of her was already his.

She grabbed a pink fluffy towel, one of the ones Steven had picked out, and stepped onto the burgundy bathmat. Steven again. Connie breathed slowly, head spinning a little. Steven was in control, and she was falling into sub space hard in anticipation. She was searching for signs that he was in control that weren't there, without him even the room. Tonight was going to be a lot.

Connie blew her hair dry and went to the bedroom, where Steven rested on his belly on the bed. His legs kicked pink heels slowly and he beamed as she walked in. Her heart sped in her chest, and she couldn't stop smiling as she looked at her beautiful husband, even as he teased, "You smell much nicer now."

She giggled. "Thank you. So, you want to dress me?"

"I want to see you dress yourself," he said. "And then I'm going to help you and fix all the mistakes you make."

Her heart skipped a bit, stomach filling with butterflies. That was dom Steven. Sweet, patient, and gentle, but firm and insistent about following the rules and things going right. She walked quickly to her dresser and reached in for a pair of panties, and suddenly found herself frozen. Was she supposed to go with her usual boy shorts? Bikini? She didn't really have a bunch of thongs. Her fingers hovered over the fabric as she struggled with what he’d want from her.

"It's okay. I know you don't have any pretty underwear," he purred. "Just put on whatever you like best. I'll show you how to be a pretty girl when you're done."

That got under her skin for some reason. "I know how to be a pretty girl," she mumbled, snagging the boy shorts and tugging them on hard. She went back in for a bra, blue and utilitarian. Then a yellow shirt. Overalls. She felt her cheeks burned as she realized she was going for masculine on purpose, worried that any attempt to prove she could dress femme would be destroyed by Steven's seemingly instinctual femininity.

As she hooked the last button, the smell of Steven's perfume overwhelmed her. He slipped up behind her, hands resting on her hips as hot breath brushed across her ear. "You look nice, Connie, but you're not dressing like the pretty girl I know you could be." His tongue pressed against her neck, heat sliding up from the base to just behind her ear, making her whine and press against him. "I really want to see how cute you can be. Can you follow all my instructions? You want to make me happy, right?"

She was gone, completely under the wonderful spell of following rules and being good for him. Connie nodded as heat rushed into her belly and lower, everything deliciously tight as she fell into perfect submission. Her whole weight fell back into his arms, barely holding herself up at all. He laughed a little, nuzzling her. "Oh, gees. That was fast. Has it been that long since I took control?"

"A month?" she said uncertainly. She looked up at his pretty face with a happy sigh. "I'm all yours now, though. Anything you want."

"You're so good," he purred. "I thought undressing you would help you get here, but you did it all by yourself. Good girl."

She shivered. "Thank you, Steven. I'll take everything off now, if you want."

"Yeah, let's get you out of boy clothes." His hand squeezed her chest over bra and t-shirt and stiff denim, and the pressure still made her moan and curl her toes. "You can't even see all your pretty curves in this."

He turned her around, and she saw a white shopping bag on his arm. She felt a little giddy at the thought that he had bought her something, and tried to help him get her clothes off. He giggled, pushing her hands away as the overalls pooled on the floor. "Silly. You couldn't figure out how to get dressed up for me. Now I have to do all the work."

His fingers snagged the elastic of her underwear and tugged up, rubbing her lips and clit all at once. She gasped, leaning back against the dresser. "Sorry, Steven. I'll do better. I could try on other-" She whined as his hand cupped her and rubbed.

"I just said you were silly. Look at you," he murmured. "All wet and soft. You didn't know how to dress yourself before you got like this. Just let me help you."

She was tugged around. Off went her underwear, her shirt, her bra, and then a fabric was pushed into her hands. She glanced down, unraveling it slowly. It took a moment for her to figure out what she was looking at, but heat stained her cheeks as it all clicked into place. Pink and black nearly transparent lace on a garter belt, attached to a barely there thong. She swallowed. "When you said feminization, you meant... This femme."

"Color?"

It was embarrassing. A little uncomfortable, but she shouldn't have been. Connie was a girl. She had never been ashamed of it or tried to hide it. But even at her girliest she had never thought of anything like this. That was the point though, wasn't it? Making her into the pretty girl she never was. Something about that made her heart flutter, made everything oddly tingly. She smiled nervously. "Just surprised. Green."

"Thank you." He grinned. "Put them on. You'll be cute."

"Right. Cute." She fidgeted, but he had told her to, and he'd be so happy, and it might feel nice to have such smooth silk on and look so... She stepped in, quickly pulling them on. She didn't normally wear pink, or hot colors in general. They clashed with the cool tones in her skin. But Steven had thought of even that, apparently, as the black lace softened the contrast. She hoped it did. She hoped she looked pretty. Because of course she did. Who didn't want to look good? Her head reeled and she stuttered, "Um, okay, i-is that right?"

She looked up and found his eyes dark with want. His hand stroked over the lace and set everything aching again. She gasped and pressed against his fingers as his free hand gave her stockings. "This next, Connie."

"Isn't this enough?" she asked. He looked shocked. She felt shocked. She had dressed up as his squire and as a maid and even as a human pet with a collar and bell, and never had she questioned him. But this wasn't a normal roleplay with a story and acting, this was just Connie. He was calling her Connie. She blushed and looked away. "I mean, green. I'll put it on."

"Hold on. What are you feeling?" he asked. "Tell the truth, Strawberry."

"I don't know!" she squeaked. "Confused? I'm already a girl!"

"Yeah, it's not forced girl," he said with a grin. His fingers rubbed between her legs again. She tried not to melt, but his fingers knew just the right way to press to make her pant and squirm. "It's forced feminization."

"I'm not this feminine."

"Maybe you want to be. Stockings." He stepped back, admiring her trembling limbs as she stepped into sheer lace and fumbled to clip everything on. When she finished, he clicked his tongue and chided, "You didn't even try to keep it straight."

He plucked and twisted the stockings until they were in the proper order. His fingers ran over the fabric, over the smooth skin of her thighs, and barley held back from burying his face between her legs. Licking her over her panties was always a great way to tease and make her beg. But, lipstick. He could get messy later.

He dug into the bag and handed her a padded push up bra, same colors as everything else. "This."

She grabbed it, quickly hooking and twisting it into place. "And then we can fuck."

"No. You're barely even dressed." He stood, slowly running his hands up her body as he went. His hands slid inside her bra, making her whine, but it was only to put in on properly. He scooped and tugged each breast into place, so that they were nearly falling out. Her brushed his fingers over the sensitive skin, the cleavage that the padding created. "You're really losing it, aren't you? Don't even know how to put a bra on right."

She flushed. "I do! I just got flustered."

"Flustered. Confused. Poor thing," he crooned, giving her head a loving scratch. "Maybe you'll feel better once we finish getting you pretty. There's a dress in the bag for you. I think you'll love it. I'll go get the makeup."

She peered inside and squeaked at the bright pink, poofy baby doll dress. She looked at his retreating form, taking just a moment to admire just how great his legs and ass looked in heels, before calling, "Can I pick one of my dresses?"

"No!" he called back. "Definitely that one. And, actually, come here when you put it on."

She tried her best to push down the ever growing humiliation. She could just stop, couldn't she? Leave it in the bag. Get changed into normal clothes. It'd be easy. Steven would never hold it against her. The fabric was soft and flowing in her hands. Her heart was pounding. It was just clothes. Not silly. Not embarrassing. Just cute clothes. She could wear cute clothes. Nerdy tomboy sword swinging warriors could be cute. She pulled it on over her head and tried to steady her pounding heart. That wasn't so bad. Felt normal.

Except for the feeling of lace all the way up her legs, and the barely there thong against her pussy. She walked forward, and everything was the whisper of silken fabric. Her chest bounced in a way she wasn't used to, and a glance down made her flush. She really filled out the dress like this, didn't she? She started down the hall. Steven wanted to see her in the bathroom for some-

She froze at the door. Mirrors. There was a full length mirror in the bathroom. He peaked out the door, grinning as he saw her face. "You've never been more adorable in your life, Connie. Come look."

She covered her face with a whine. She wanted to be good. She was good at following instructions. But everything was so embarrassing and her face was burning and she wanted him to fuck her until she couldn't stand for some reason. Humiliation only built as she realized she wanted him to fuck her while she wore the dress.

"Silly girl," he murmured, resting his forehead against hers. "What's wrong?"

"I think I like it," she whispered.

"Good. It’s supposed to be fun, Connie. Come look at how cute you are." He took her hand, leading her to the mirror, and her discomfort was just enough for him to break his earlier rule. He hugged her from behind, placing tender kisses along her neck as her pulse fluttered under his lips. He looked up to her eyes in the mirror, staring at herself with confusion and nervousness. He squeezed her softly. “It’s okay. You’re beautiful. How do you feel?”

She gulped. “Naked. Vulnerable.” A small smile. “Uh, really horny.”

“We can skip all the makeup,” he murmured, his hand slipping under her skirt, up to tease the soaked panties. Connie whined, her hips moving against his fingers. “I’ll get down on my knees and take care of you. But you have to promise to wear this all day, and I get to fuck you whenever I want, and, since you like to tell stories…” His teeth nibbled and tugged on her ear. “While I make you cum, tell me about wearing this on the boardwalk, going all the way down to the arcade.”

“You wear this on the boardwalk,” she muttered, then squeaked as the teeth on her ear chomped a little harder, sending another spike of heat between her legs. “Sorry! I’ll do it, Steven, just please stop teasing.”

He came down in front of her, kissing slowly up her thighs as his head vanished under her dress. “Start talking.”

She tried not to look at herself in the mirror, on the wonderful picture of her dress wearing husband on his knees, vanished under her skirt. "If I went out dressed like this everyone would...” Her voice caught as his hot tongue pressed hard against the silk, dragging his tongue all the way across the soaking fabric, before tugging it aside and doing it again across wet lips. Connie’s voice was high and tight. “They'd stare. I'm all covered up, but it's really eye catching. L-like the opposite of a Goth.”

She whimpered and panted as his hands kneaded her ass, his hot mouth swirling and poking and prodding at her aching cunt. He grwoled after a moment, making her shiver as he stopped and blew on her instead. “I didn’t say stop talking. I liked that story.”

She groaned, fists clenching tight in the fabric and only reminding her further of the embarrassing mess she found herself in. “Everyone's eyes would be on me a-and it'd be humiliating. And scary. And people would ask me why I was dressed like this and I’d have to lie and I’d be too stupid to think of anything." She whimpered as he groaned, his tongue fluttering over her clit.

"Everyone would be so jealous that I have such a pretty girlfriend," Steven said, two thick fingers pushing up inside her and making her gasp. He slowly pumped in and out, kissing her mound between words. "The only problem is how wet you'd be from dressing up so cute."

As his tongue circled her clit, her voice turned husky and broken. Everything was building, tightening as she reached her peak. She felt embarrassment creep up her spine, knowing how ridiculous she sounded trying to talk through an orgasm, but Steven always loved it, always asked for it when he was in control, loved hearing her fall apart. " Very pretty girlfriend. So pretty. Good and wet for you, please. Please. Y-you could fuck me on the boardwalk. Behind the arcade. I'd be a good girl, Steven, please, I'm gonna-"

His fingers crooked up inside her, rubbing against the wonderful deep spots of her clit. He’d gotten a third finger in there, giving her something thick to clench around. She was already babbling, and her voice broke into a grunt and a cry as Steven kept the steady rhythm, making her shake from head to toe as he made her ride it out as long as possible. And when she was spent, one more lick imbued with magic took the ache of overstimulation away, so further licks just made her whine with pleasurable aftershocks.

He slid his fingers out, looking up at her as he slowly sucked his fingers clean. "If it gets you this wet, we're gonna have to do this a lot."

"You make the prettier girl," she mumbled, voice terribly hoarse.

He laughed pushing to his feet. "Low self-confidence? Not in my house. C'mon, Connie." He gave her a delighted smirk. "Let's get your makeup done and try to change your mind."


End file.
